An Unlikely Trio
by Hazeloop
Summary: Sherlock returns from the dead reuniting with John and the life that he had left behind. A year passes by as Sherlock and John's relationship turns from 'flatmate' to 'couple' and one day Sherlock is faced with the most perplexing and challenging mystery in his entire life...children.
1. Prologue

Authors Note: I try to remain fairly canon with how the characters act, and the overall universe, but some aspects have been changed in terms of overall story and with relationships like Sherlock's parents. Thank you and enjoy!

Prologue:

**John** – **"_Two years…since that day. It had been two years since he left my life, and who would've thought that baker street would bring us back together again_."**

Sherlock stands before John in the pouring rain in front of 221B Baker St.. A plastic grocery bag hangs limply from John's hand as he stares up at the man in complete disbelief. Sherlock stares back with a somber look, which soon turns into a smug grin as he examines John's face closer.

**Sherlock** – "Really John, A mustache?"

**John** –** "_Those were the first words he said to me_."**

John drops his bag and umbrella punching him straight in the face. Sherlock stands not blocking, but does stagger a little as blood pours from his cut lip.

**John** –"All these years! And that's the first thing you say to me?!"

He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, his gaze averted as he breathes harshly trying to comprehend the situation.

**John** \- "You're supposed to be dead you arrogant prick!"

**Sherlock** – "John, I—"

Sherlock reaches out to John, but is instead grabbed roughly by him and thrown against the door to 221B.

**John** – "You think you can just walk back into my life like this! Like I'd just gladly welcome you with open arms like nothing happened?!"

John closes his eyes and rests his head against Sherlock's chest.

**John** –" You arrogant son of a bitch….why didn't you trust me?!"

Both remain unusually quiet as the rain continues to pour down on them. Hesitantly, Sherlock rests a hand on John's head running his fingers through his hair. John slowly looks up at Sherlock, staring directly into his eyes.

**John** – **"…_however I could see his true words in his eyes_."**

**John** –** "_I'm so sorry… I missed you… Please forgive me…. I don't deserve you…_"**

** "_I love you…."_**

John then buries his face again in his chest, his grip tightening as he trembles fiercely.

**John** – "Why did you leave me?"

John sobs as Sherlock wraps his arms around him, burying his own head into John's hair doing little to hide his own tears.

**Sherlock** – "I'm sorry John…"

**John** – **"_A part of me wanted to forgive him right there, as angry as I was, just seeing his face brought _**

**_ back so many memories_."**

Later, John opens the door to 221B the smell of lingering chemicals and paper hit Sherlock like a ton of bricks, overwhelming the senses. What surprised him most though was how immaculate and dust free the flat appeared to be despite his two-year absence.

**Sherlock** – "You kept the flat all this time?"

He looked around in awe, everything preserved as it was the day Sherlock 'died'. John slowly walks in and puts his hands on the back of his chair, fingering the shawl that laid across it.

**John** – "Every now and then, I would come back to…clean and dust, pay Mrs. Hudson a visit. Heh, that's why I was here today actually, I always bring her favorite tin of biscuits."

John lifts his bag and looks up at Sherlock who is now staring outside the window.

**John** – "Most of the time though, I would just sit here and think…Reminisce."

**John** –** "_Those memories, would always flood my mind whenever I came back to this place. Every time I hoped that they would bring me comfort or peace, but it never did. It would just reopen the wound, remind me of how much I missed him_."**

Sherlock turns and stares a John who is now looking down nervously picking at the shawl. His other hand rubbing the wound on his shoulder.

**John** –" I-I know you probably think I'm an idiot for doing so, that I should've just moved on with my life like you wanted me to."

John tightly grips the back of the chair and looks up at Sherlock.

**John** – **"_That's why I kept coming back, because I was afraid that one day I wouldn't miss him_."**

**John** – "But I just couldn't…. I tried, but I couldn't just move on like that, to believe that everything was a lie! Not after everything we've…"

In a flash Sherlock strides over to him, gripping his arms firmly as his gaze locks onto John's.

**Sherlock** – "You were right, John. All that time…none of it was a lie."

John stares back fondly at first, but just as quickly his expression turns to anger.

**John** – "Then why didn't you trust me?! Let me in on your plan!"

A pained look crosses Sherlock's face, but he remains silent

**John** – "I would've followed you Sherlock! Even if I had to disappear off the face of the Earth, I would've done it for you…"

**Sherlock** – "I know."

John looks at him shocked.

**Sherlock** – "But it was not your battle to fight John. If Moriarty's men had any inkling that you knew of my plan they… you've escaped death so many times already. I didn't want you to go through that experience again."

**John** – **"_I could see the pain in his face as well, as if he were recalling the same memories as I. A mournful look, at the loss of time that we will never be able to regain_."**

Sherlock's grip moves from his arms to his hands. His thumbs fondly rubbing over his knuckles as John stares down at their joined hands.

**Sherlock** – "Please know this John, if you think that you could ever forgive me. Please know that having to leave you, was the most painful decision I ever had to make. But I had to, in order to save you."

John releases a shaky breath biting his lower lip, as he looks up at Sherlock

**John** – "Then why did you come back? You could've started a new life, a fresh start."

Sherlock ponders for a moment, his thumb continuing to brush John's knuckles

**Sherlock** – "I would be lost without my blogger."

**John** – **"_Though it would take a while for the wound to heal… to forget the pain, I understood why it was necessary for Sherlock to fake his own death; even if I may never be able to fully comprehend just how he did it. In the end, all I needed to really understand was why he had to come back_."**

A goofy-if-not-gleeful smile spreads along John's face as he chuckles warmly. Sherlock matches with a wide grin of his own.

**John** – "You really are an idiot."

John reaches up grabbing the back of Sherlock's head, pulling him down into a kiss.

**John** – **"_And that was enough for me_."**


	2. Chapter 1: The Blog

**Chapter 1: The Blog**

**John** – **"**_**It's been a year since Sherlock came back to me…"**_

John is sitting in what is now his and Sherlock's room, typing away a new entry for his blog on their bed. He pauses in mid-sentence as his mind lingers on those words and a small smile crosses his face.

Since they moved back into 221B John's old room has been converted into a Study for Sherlock when he needs to work alone or on his experiments. Finally, (much to John's joy), ridding most of the apartment of clutter and strange smells.

They've tried to keep their first year together as low-key as they could, catching up on lost time, healing old wounds, and just getting used to living together again. Honestly it took little-to-no-time though, and life simply fell into normalcy once more; well, at least as normal as their life could get.

So when Sherlock decided to take cases again, and John to resume the role of partner and blogger, the one question on John's mind now was what would be the ideal case to write about for Sherlock's 'big return'.

John sat there staring at the screen contemplating, nothing they've done so far was particularly interesting. However… there was one case that did come to mind. Not so much as a case, but an experience that did eventually collide with a case. Actually, now that John thought about it more, it was the perfect 'first' case to write about for the revival of the blog; and what better way than to start from the very beginning.

_**John – "…and slowly he came back to everyone else as well**_**."**

Then, as if his fingers were electrified, John hastily began to type.

**John- **_**"As the months went by, Sherlock reunited one by one with his old friends. Detective Lestrade, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson (and yes they are his friends despite how much he will deny it). Mrs. Hudson was the first due to accidentally walking into our flat the day of his return, and passing out as a result."**_

John suppresses a laugh as he thinks back to lifting Mrs. Hudson as Sherlock revived her with smelling salts only to have her scream in his face in horror, then just as quickly crying into his coat while weakly hitting his chest. She gave him nothing but grief for two straight weeks after that, but the ample supply of tea and biscuits she would bring up to them during that time seemed to have a reverse effect.

**John **_**–" Lestrade amazingly took it in good stride, giving Sherlock a strong hug and a smug, "I knew you weren't dead!", but the misty look in his eyes said otherwise. Molly was even calmer than the other two. She did cry a little, but she just smiled and gave Sherlock a hug welcoming him back. It was later that Sherlock conveyed to me that she was in on his plan. Though it didn't surprise me since Mycroft was too, it did sting a bit…"**_

John thought back to that day when Sherlock told him the details on how exactly he faked his death. He wanted to tell John straight away, (his sense of pride and need to show off still clearly healthy) but John didn't want to think back to that day, at least not for a while; and thankfully Sherlock understood and respected John's wishes. To be honest, John didn't really care how Sherlock did it, all he cared was that Sherlock was back and he was fine with just that. Yet Molly's subtle reaction to Sherlock miraculously coming back from the dead, irked in the back of John's mind wondering, "How did he do it?".

So one day, out of the blue… John just asked.

It was quite hilarious of a situation now that he thought about it. Sherlock was in the kitchen holding a tongue with forceps in one hand over a Bunsen burner while making detailed notes with the other. This had already annoyed John seeing as Sherlock had a perfectly good lab in his old room, but at John's prior protests Sherlock simply replied, "I want to be able to see you while I work." Well, John didn't have the heart to say no after that.

So as John sat in his chair reading the paper while Sherlock worked on his experiment, he suddenly lowered the paper, turned to Sherlock and asked, "How did you fake your death?" Sherlock, for once was taken completely off guard and dropped his tongue into the burner disintegrating the tongue and almost setting the table on fire.

What took place after that was over an hour of detailed explanations involving look-alike corpses, an airbed, dozens of actors, Mycroft's deception, a rubber ball…the list went on as Sherlock unfolded the whole plan to him. When he got to Molly's part however, that was when John's mood turned from enraptured to enraged.

He knew it was childish seeing as it was two years ago and Sherlock had a perfectly good reason for needing Molly's aid, but he just kept thinking about how she didn't have to mourn him, how she didn't wake up in the middle of the night sobbing from a nightmare, or have the psychosomatic pain in her leg come back now and then.

Why did she get to know that he was ok?

Again, old wounds are easily re-opened, and what took place after Sherlock's explanation was hours of fighting, tears, apologies, and forgiveness. Then some take away Thai food didn't hurt either. Despite how painful the conversation was though, it only served to strengthen their relationship.

**John** – **"**_**So life continues on here at 221B Baker St. Sherlock once again took on the role of consulting detective, and I his blogger. Sherlock was fairly unstoppable, solving case after case, and building back up the reputation of a brilliant mind that he deserved. That is until one day when Sherlock was confronted with a challenge that even he couldn't of been prepared for**_**."**


	3. Chapter 2: Three's a Crowd

**Chapter 2: Three's a Crowd**

It is just another normal day at 221B Baker St. It was an unusually sunny day in November, and there were no pressing cases, leaving Sherlock and John to enjoy a nice-lazy Sunday. Or so it would seem. For the great detective Sherlock Holmes however, it is far from a normal Sunday. His face grim and his brow furrowed, he crosses his arms sternly as he stares down at his newest enemy.

One to have the audacity to invade his home on such a pleasant day as today, and to not even give a damn about it! She just stares back at him with a vacant-uncaring expression, like she couldn't give two licks that she was graced by such a benevolent presence. But why would she care anyway? It's not like she could talk back, or walk away even.

Actually in this situation, Sherlock was in complete control. He smiled triumphantly to himself at first with this realization, but it's quickly washed away at the following thought that he had no idea what to do with her, and any ideas he did have were clearly not legal.

So, with much dismay and great annoyance, Sherlock continues on to stand in his kitchen glaring down at a baby sitting on his lab table in a basket.

**Sherlock** – "John?"

Sherlock continues to stare at the baby who stares back

**Sherlock** – "John?!"

Sherlock then cautiously pokes the baby who grabs his finger

**John** – "Yeah?"

John calls from the other room

**Sherlock** – "What's this?"

**John** – "What's what?"

Sherlock continues to prod the baby who begins to cry

**Sherlock** – "This….thing on my table."

John enters the room to find a look of disgust on Sherlock's face as the baby continues to cry even louder. Sherlock looks up at John turning the basket in his direction.

**Sherlock** – "And now it's making noise."

With a heavy and agitated sigh John puts his hands on his hips, glaring back at Sherlock.

**John** – "It's a baby Sherlock, surely you must know what those are?"

**Sherlock** – "Yes of course John, but what is it doing here in my flat and on my table?"

John goes over to pick up the baby out of the basket, shooing Sherlock away.

**John **– "What did you do to her?"

**Sherlock** – "I did nothing to it."

Sherlock responds defensively. He glares again as John gently holds the baby bouncing her a bit in his arms shooting back a glare at Sherlock

**John** – "She's not an 'it', her name is Emma and she's my niece."

**Sherlock** – "That still doesn't explain why she's on my table."

He crosses his arms, pouting slightly at John.

**John** – "My sister and her husband have to go out of town for a week for an emergency and asked me if I could watch her. And seeing that it's been pretty slow lately case-wise and that I have a week of holiday to use up I figured it shouldn't be a problem."

John gently rocks the baby in his arms calming her down, while Sherlock walks over to his chair disgruntled and looks through his microscope. He glances up and watches as John treads back and forth rocking the baby gently. He looks from the baby to John and see's the look of pure comforting bliss on his face.

**Sherlock** –"This is my first encounter with any of your family."

John stops rocking the baby and looks up at Sherlock with a sad smile.

**John** –"Probably won't be the last, but it won't become a habit I assure you."

Sherlock looks at John, cocking an eyebrow in question.

**Sherlock**-"And why is that?"

**John** –"My parents moved out to the country and don't intend to leave anytime soon, and…I don't really

get along with my sister, so we don't speak much. Well…not her so much as her husband."

**Sherlock** – "Ah, the consistent purveyor of the finest of gentleman clubs."

John looks at him with a bit of surprise.

**John** – "So you do listen in on my calls to my folks?"

**Sherlock** –"Only on parts that are gossip-worthy."

Sherlock smirks as he looks back into the microscope. John smiles as well, but then sighs wearily.

**John**\- "But, family is family. And when family rings you as their last resort for a babysitter

you have little-to-no choice in the matter."

**Sherlock**-"There's always the choice of not taking her."

Sherlock continues to stare through his microscope, but he wasn't really paying attention to the slide of brain tissue that lied beneath it.

**John** – "That wouldn't be fair to Emma though, and besides now it gives me time to bond with my only niece, without having to resist the urge to constantly sock her father."

Sherlock looks up from his microscope at John as he tickles Emma's stomach. She coos happily and the smile that John gives her is one that Sherlock has rarely seen on John before. A small quiver of guilt and a little bit of jealousy passes through his mind, but he quickly pushes it away before it has the chance to grow.

**Sherlock** –"By the way, I thought your sister was a lesbian? At least when we first met that was my understanding."

**John** – "Well, after she ended things with Clara she decided to, and I quote, 'Give men another go'. So I suppose she's batting for both teams now."

John air quotes with one hand, as Emma looks up at him with a grumpy expression at the loss of tickling.

**Sherlock**-"Well, as long as this….inconvenience doesn't interrupt my experiments you can play house as much as-"

Suddenly the sound of a timer goes off

**John** – "Oh, that'll be her formula. Could you hold her for a sec?"

John unceremoniously places Emma in Sherlock's arms, holding her awkwardly and with a look of horror and confusion on his face.

**Sherlock** –"But I don't-"

**John** –"It'll only be a minute, I just have to get her bottle ready. Just… think of this as practice."

A look of panic on his face, Sherlock watches as John whizzes by him and over towards the stove. The barely supressed smirk on John's face had not gone unnoticed.

**Sherlock** -"Practice for what?"

Sherlock looks down at Emma who stares wide-eyed up at him, but then makes a disgruntled face.

**Sherlock** – "What're you… oh…."

John with his back turned the entire time-tested the formula on his wrist to make sure it was not too hot. And if he took just a little bit longer than usual to do so while he reveled in the sound of Sherlock being completely out of his element, then how could anyone blame him?

**John** – "Practice for handling children."

He answered, turning to see Sherlock holding the baby out at arms-length onto the back of her overalls, a look of disgust on his face. John huffs and places the formula down gently taking the baby out of Sherlock's grasp.

**John** –"You could certainly use it."

**Sherlock** – "I have no need for such useless information. My interactions with children are little-to-none especially in cases of murder, save for the occasional criminal master mind who feels free to use them as pawns in his game."

As Sherlock continued to rant, John in the meantime went and retrieved her diaper bag; returning back to the table where he began to make space for Emma to lay down.

**Sherlock** – "Furthermore, if I ever required the need to learn how to handle children, it would certainly be from an older age group, preferably one that can talk. Which brings me to—what are you doing?"

Sherlock in his mid-rant turned to see John laying Emma on a blanket on Sherlock's table, taking her overalls off and thus her diaper.

**John** – "I'm changing her diaper Sherlock."

**Sherlock** – "Yes but on my lab table?! Surely there must be a better place?"

**John** – "Not really, the living room table is covered with papers and books, as is the coffee table, you've turned my old room into your 'special thinking-mind-palace-room' and I'm not about to change her on our bed where we… you know."

**Sherlock**\- "Yes! Exactly my point! Because this flat is not suited for the crying-smelly-squirming-little parasites that humans seem so inclined to keep bringing into this world!"

John glares at Sherlock as he finishes her diaper

**John** – "She's a harmless baby Sherlock! Not some parasite. You were once one of these too I might add."

**Sherlock** – "regretfully…."

A sad expression passes over John's face at Sherlock's comment. He lifts Emma from the table taking careful need to clear the table of any debris from before. Sherlock sits in the kitchen chair drumming his fingers irritably on the table, his gaze averted from John's. After a brief moment, John heaves a tired sigh.

**John** – "Fine, I'll get a folding table from Mrs. Hudson and use that instead. Is that better?"

John sits down at the other chair in front of Sherlock pulling the chair forward, their knees slightly bumping as he gently shifts Emma to one arm as he continues to feed her the bottle. The tense mood beginning to wane a bit as Sherlock stops drumming his fingers and looks from John down to Emma.

**Sherlock** –"Just one week?"

**John** – "Just one week."

With the bottle finished, John places it on the table and looks back at Sherlock who continues to stare down at Emma with a furrowed brow, as her eyes start to droop.

**Sherlock** – "She's going to eat all the time."

**John** – "I know."

John leans forward to kiss one cheek.

**Sherlock** – "And produce foul-smelling odors."

**John** – "It'll pass."

He kisses the other.

**Sherlock** –"Constantly needy, and crying throughout the night."

**John** –"We'll adjust and take turns."

A hand caresses Sherlock's cheek as John kisses the bridge of his nose.

**Sherlock** –"Who says we? It's your niece."

John gives him a sly grin

**John** – "You were complaining how bored you were earlier. Just think of this as a challenge. How fast can you master the art of child-rearing."

Sherlock looks unconvinced

**Sherlock** – "Although I love a challenge as much as the next man, I think I'll pass on one where there is no beneficial outcome in the end."

**John** – "Well, let's make it interesting then. If you can become a proficient babysitter by the end of the week, even better than me, then I'll-"

John Leans in and whispers into Sherlock's ear

**Sherlock** –"Wait why're you whispering?"

**John**-"So the baby doesn't hear."

**Sherlock** – "She's a baby John, she can't under-"

John places a finger on Sherlock's mouth.

**John** – "Just go with it."

John goes back and whispers into Sherlock's ear, his face goes from sullen to excitement as John pulls back.

**Sherlock** –"Really? With those-"

John leans in and kisses him

**John** –"Let's just say yes for now and leave the details for later."

Sherlock leans back, crossing his arms still looking unconvinced.

**Sherlock**-"And what if you win?"

**John**-"You and I will go on a Holiday, of my choosing, for 2 weeks. You never want to go anywhere and I'm tired of being stuck in this flat all the time."

Sherlock stands and walks into the living room sitting down in his armchair in silence; his finger steeple under his chin in deep meditation. John follows him in still carrying Emma who begins to cry as John lifts her up and starts to gently pat her on the back. As John sits in his own armchair across from him, Sherlock looks up suddenly, his eyes ablaze with excitement.

**Sherlock** -"Alright John…. You have a deal. The game is on!"

Sherlock leaps up in a flourish and grabs his coat and scarf, heading for the door.

**John **-"Where are you going?"

**Sherlock **-"To gather data John! If I'm to win this bet (and I fully intend to), one must gather the necessary data needed to attack their target with full-on precision."

John looks at him incredulously, shaking his head as he stands walking towards Sherlock. Emma beginning to grow more agitated in his arms as he continues to pat at her back.

**John** -"This isn't some battle Sherlock, it's babysitting."

Sherlock puts on his scarf and flips up his collar dramatically giving John a cheeky wink.

**Sherlock **-"Everything my dear John… is a battle!"

With that Sherlock kisses John on the head and rushes out of the flat, leaving John standing alone-dumbfounded still patting Emma's back.

**John** – "What did I just get you into Emma?"

Emma gives a loud burp in response.


	4. Chapter 3: Slight Doubts

**Chapter 3: Slight Doubts**

In a quaint park in the middle of London, the sounds of children playing reverberate within the brightly colored playground. However, lying in the bushes near the playground, the glint of binoculars can be seen. Hidden in the shadows, Sherlock's gaze flits from parent to parent. He cautiously studies their behavior mentally taking notes as if he were a hunter stalking the most dangerous of prey. Slowly, a shadow looms over him, the mysterious figure waits for a moment before crossing his arms and loudly clearing his throat.

**Shadow** –"You know there's only so many laws that you can break in one day."

**Sherlock** – "Nice to see you too Lestrade."

Sherlock responds nonchalantly as Lestrade kneels beside him.

**Lestrade** –"You've been quite busy today haven't you? First the nursery at Saint Benedict Children's Hospital…"

Lestrade takes away Sherlock's binoculars who glares back up at him. Lestrade just gives a wry grin as he begins to count off Sherlock's exploits on his hand.

**Lestrade** –"…Then impersonating a teacher at the Daisy Hill Preschool, all those bookstores and libraries where you ransacked through all the books on expecting parents and child-rearing, and don't even get me started on the women's clinic downtown."

Sherlock stands up during Lestrades' rant, dusting himself off.

**Lestrade** – "When I got the report I thought we had a serial pervert on the loose, but when I read the description: 'tall-lanky-pale man with dark brown hair, wearing a black coat and blue scarf mumbling the words 'must get data'', I figured I should take on the dispatch personally."

**Sherlock** –"Lanky? I'm not lanky at all."

Sherlock pouts as he pats his stomach, but is interrupted when Lestrade points an angry finger in his face.

**Lestrade** -"And you're damn lucky it was me too! Otherwise you would be riding first class in the back of a patrol car right about now."

Sherlock stares intently at Lestrade studying his current demeanor.

**Sherlock** – "_Eyes-bloodshot and tired, hasn't shaved or slept properly in days._

_ Shoulders hunched and tense, slight crick in his neck. Most likely sleeping on something_

_ besides a bed, the multi-colored polyester fibers littered across his coat suggest a couch. _

_Clothes worn, disheveled and slightly stained. The blinding smell of cologne suggests the lack of a decent bath._"

**Sherlock** – "I'm just collecting data Lestrade, no need for the theatrics."

Lestrade visibly calms down, but he still crosses his arms cocking an eyebrow at Sherlock.

**Lestrade** –"For a case? "

**Sherlock** -"No, a bet."

Looking at Sherlock incredulously, Lestrade follows after Sherlock as he walks through the park eventually coming to a bridge where Sherlock leans against the rail solemnly looking down at the small stream. Lestrade himself leans back against the rail running a tired hand through his already disheveled hair.

**Lestrade**-"Since when are you a betting man? I would think you would be above games of chance."

**Sherlock** –"It's more of a game of skill. And for once John has more of an aptitude for this particular… talent than I do."

**Lestrade**-"What sort of bet involves studying kids?"

As he continues to stare into the babbling stream below, Sherlock heaves a frustrated sigh knowing how ridiculous the following sentence is going to sound, but there was no other way to phrase it without causing even more suspicion.

**Sherlock**-"John and I are raising a baby."

Lestrade stares at him in complete disbelief, his eyes almost bulging out of his skull.

**Lestrade**-"Uh…come again?"

Sherlock rolls his eyes in annoyance, (a slight blush on his cheeks) and pushes away from the railing, straightening his scarf.

**Sherlock**\- "It's just as I stated Greg. Why must I always repeat myself?"

**Lestrade**\- "So when did John suddenly gain the miracle of child-birth in less than a week? Unless you're the mother and you've been hiding the baby under that trench coat or yours for the past nine months"

Sherlock stops fidgeting with his scarf and looks at Lestrade with an unreadable expression. Lestrade looks back with a joking grin and wink causing a grin to form on Sherlock's face as well.

**Sherlock**\- "It's not our child Lestrade, it's his niece. His git of a sister has left the little worm with us for a week, and I have a bet with John that I could be a better parent than him by the end of the week."

Lestrade then bursts out laughing.

**Lestrade**\- "But you don't know anything about kids Sherlock. Hell, just the very notion of you being a parent to….anything is absurd!"

A brief look of hurt passes over Sherlock's face, but he recovers quickly.

**Sherlock**-"Hence why I was gathering data Lestrade. Until _you_ decided to interrupt me."

**Lestrade**-"Well you technically were disturbing the peace Sherlock, it's my job after all. Besides, you can observe as many children as you want or read all the parenting books in the world and it wouldn't prepare you."

As Lestrade calms down from his laughter, he notices that impassive-neutral look once again clouding Sherlock's face. His eyes looking off into the distance, as he retreats back into the comforts of his mind.

**Sherlock**-"So what will exactly?"

Just as quickly though, Sherlock snaps out of his reverie and looks up at Lestrade.

**Lestrade**\- "Well, not to sound sappy, but your heart Sherlock. You can't raise a child properly if there's no bond or any emotional connection."

**Sherlock**-"You make it sound like it's impossible for me then."

**Lestrade**-"Well….no. But you have to admit you're not exactly good at connecting with people."

Sherlock stays silent for a moment, absorbing Lestrades words.

**Sherlock**-"No, I suppose I'm not."

Then slowly, he turns and begins to walk away.

**Lestrade**\- "Sherlock! I….maybe I'm not the best person to be giving advice on this…subject; what with never having kids myself."

Sherlock stops and half turns to him.

**Lestrade**-"You should ask someone else for advice. Maybe get a… woman's perspective."

Sherlock visibly brightens at the idea and turns to leave again.

**Sherlock**-"Maybe you're right. Thank you Greg."

Lestrade sighs relieved as he watches Sherlock walk away.

**Lestrade**-"Anytime Sherlock."

Continuing to walk, Sherlock calls back catching Lestrade off guard.

**Sherlock**-" By the way, you should really go home to sleep, those couch marks on your face and the musk of your cheap cologne trying to hide your lack of bathing are not doing you any justice."

**Lestrade**-"Always a people person Sherlock!"

Lestrade smells himself and rubs his face as Sherlock gives a half wave, a broad grin spreading across his face.


	5. Chapter 4: Depths of a Woman

**Chapter 4: Depths of a Woman**

**Molly** – "Um… I'm sorry?"

Molly stood frozen, hovered over a corpse. Her gloved hands covered in blood as she holds the stomach of a woman in her hand. Across from her is Sherlock standing expectantly with his hands behind his back, a look of slight annoyance on his face.

**Sherlock** – "What do you know about raising children Molly?"

Molly blushes as she fumbles having almost dropped her stomach.

**Molly** – "W-Why are you asking me?"

**Sherlock** – "I'm collecting data, and Lestrade told me to get a 'woman's perspective'. And since you're one of the few women that I know, I came to you."

**Molly** – "Oh! Is this for a case or something?"

Sherlock snaps on a pair of gloves and goes about helping Molly, extracting organs out of the woman.

**Sherlock** – "No, John and I are raising a baby."

This time Molly does actually drop her stomach onto the floor in a panic, causing her to duck and grab it along with hitting her head against the gurney.

**Molly** –"You're raising a baby?!"

**Sherlock** – "More along the lines of babysitting to be exact."

Molly looks quizzically at him

**Sherlock** – "It's his niece."

**Molly**\- "Oh…OH! Thank goodness!"

Molly places a bloody hand upon her chest in relief, which she instantly regrets as she moves to the sink trying to wash the blood off.

**Sherlock** – "Is there something wrong?"

**Molly** – "No! No of course not. It's just…"

Sherlock quirks an eyebrow and looks up at her. Molly's back turned to him.

**Sherlock** – "Yes?"

She turns around having made a decent effort at cleaning herself up.

**Molly** –"I'm just surprised that you would show any interest in children. You always seem so… beyond that."

**Sherlock** – "It wasn't my idea I assure you. However, John and I have made a small wager in my capability at being able to take care of his niece for a week."

**Molly** – "I figured you would only do this for the challenge."

Molly moves back to resume taking out the various organs. Sherlock pauses and stares down at her with a frown on his face.

**Sherlock** –"Am I really that predictable?"

She looks up at him giving a small smirk.

**Molly** – "You're not predictable, (not by a long shot) but you're just…Sherlock! I could just never see you raising children, or doing anything as…'illogical' like that."

As Sherlock continued assisting Molly with her work, he remains silent as he ponders over her statement. It's true that he never gave much thought to children, in fact he absolutely loathed them. The idea of even raising a child himself never once entered into his mind as a possible experience he would ever have in his life. He paused for a moment, (his hands idly juggling a spleen back and forth) as he came to the realization that the only person that thought Sherlock could be remotely capable of raising a child, was John. And if John believed he could do it…

**Sherlock** – "Is the idea of me doing anything illogical really that absurd?"

He looks up at Molly who stares back blushing mildly.

**Molly** – "I-I don't know… But then again, to answer your earlier question; I don't know much about raising children myself. I only have an older brother, and we never really got along that well."

Sherlock goes back to assisting Molly, amused at how flustered she could still get despite everything they've been through. However, a stern look comes across his face as his thoughts turn to his own brother.

**Sherlock** – "The feeling is mutual."

Molly smiles and finishes taking the organs out that she needed, walking them over to another table as she begins to examine them more closely.

**Molly** – "When we were little though, my Mum used to make him play with me in order to get us to, 'bond'. I remember one day, we went to the country on holiday to visit my gran's house, and we got lost exploring the woods. It got to the point where it got so dark, that I kept tripping on the roots and rocks constantly. My brother-Ethan-took my hand then saying, 'If you fall and hurt yourself, mum will beat me to next week.'"

**Sherlock** –"Seems a bit excessive."

**Molly** – "Oh, he was mostly joking. Mum was a very sweet soul, but let's just say we were wary to cross her."

Sherlock stares at her with a bored look. Molly clears her throat slightly embarrassed and moves over to the cadaver as she goes about sewing it closed.

**Molly** – "So, it was around then that it started to rain, and we were lucky enough to find ourselves a small cave to huddle up in. I was….so scared, and cold. I was freezing to bits with nothing but a thin jumper on. Like I said, we never got along that well, we were very different from each other and hardly agreed on much. So it took me by surprise then when he wrapped his arm around me, and started singing."

Sherlock raised an amused eyebrow.

**Sherlock** – "Singing?"

Molly nods, noticing how she actually has Sherlock's attention now.

**Molly** – "It was an old song, one that Mum used to sing to us. I had never heard my brother sing before, I don't think he's ever sung much himself, but…."

Sherlock studies Molly intently, seeing the faraway look in her eyes as she pauses for a moment lost in her memories.

**Molly** –"It was in that moment that I really felt that he was my brother. That even despite all of our differences and arguments, we were still family, and we loved each other."

She looks up, smiling fondly at Sherlock.

**Molly **–"That's how families are. Logically, Ethan and I would just part ways and never speak to each other, because we would have nothing to gain from our relationship, but with family there's such a….. deeper bond there, that it almost defies all logic."

Sherlock stares at her, his brows knitted with a look of consternation on his face. Molly blushes at his intense stare and hastily resumes her sewing.

**Molly** – "A-Any way. What I'm trying to say is that, my brother singing to me was exactly what I needed at the time. Even though we're still not as close as some siblings are, there will always be that bond between the two of us because we're family. It just comes naturally, from the heart; and… I would think the same concept applies to raising a child."

Molly finishes up, sewing the woman's stomach back up and walks over to the sink, taking off her gloves and washing her hands.

**Molly** – "I-I'm sorry if that wasn't really helpful. I just ended up babbling really."

**Sherlock** – "You did, but there were some parts that I bothered to listen to that did give me a bit of insight on my predicament."

Sherlock throws his gloves away and turns to leave the lab, with a somber look on his face.

**Molly** – "Don't you have something like that with your brother?"

He stops at the door and looks back at Molly as he puts on his coat.

**Sherlock** – "What?"

**Molly** – "A bond? I mean, I know you don't get along, but…"

Sherlock finishes putting on his coat and looks like he's turning to leave.

**Sherlock** – "Molly, where's the nearest bakery?"

**Molly** – "Um… about two blocks south, on Saxton I think. Why?"

**Sherlock** – "I think it's about time I paid my older brother a visit."

With that, Sherlock walks out of the morgue leaving a bewildered-but pleased Molly behind. She smiles softly to herself, and with a light sigh then reaches into the pocket of her lab coat pulling out her cell phone dialing a number slowly and deliberately, a look of determination on her face.

**Molly** –"Ethan? Hi, it's Molly…"


	6. Chapter 5: Forget the Milk

**Chapter 5 – Forget the Milk**

While Sherlock rampaged through the city of London on his quest for baby data, John took the opportunity to get some much needed air with Emma in tow. Along the way he decided to make a stop at the local grocer to pick up some baby supplies and actual 'FOOD' for the lab experiment that is their refrigerator.

John is walking through the grocery store with Emma in a satchel in front of him. He casually plays with her feet as he browses through the baby aisle looking at the different jarred foods. Unbeknownst to him, Donovan and Anderson are in the same grocery store browsing as well when they come across John.

**Donovan** – "John! Well, this is…*looks at the baby* certainly a surprise."

**John** – "It is, what brings you two here? Is this for a case?"

**Anderson** – "There's been a string of jewelry thefts and one of our suspects works here so we-"

Donovan elbows him in the gut

**Donovan** – "Don't go blabbing all the details to him Sylvia. We don't want him to tell the Freak everything and have him take over this case too."

John glares at Donovan

**John** – "The… 'Freak' is plenty occupied as it is Sally, so I wouldn't worry your little head over it."

Donovan glares back at John as Anderson coughs awkwardly changing the subject

**Anderson** – "So what's with the baby John?"

John shakes off his glare for Donovan and looks down at Emma who looks curiously back up at him.

**John** – "She's my niece. Sherlock and I are taking care of her for the week while my sister is out of

town."

At this Donovan and Anderson both burst out laughing, John glares at the two and Emma mimics his expression.

**Donovan** – "Sherlock? Taking care of a baby? Pfft! Now I've heard everything!"

**Anderson** – "Yeah….I'm sorry, but I find that a bit hard to believe myself. I mean you I can see, but for Sherlock? Not in a million years!"

**John** – "Well it's true, actually that's what Sherlock is doing right now. Gathering data on raising children and on being a good parent."

Donovan and Anderson look at him with barely suppressed smirks

**Donovan** –"So that's the serial pervert we were hearing about on the radio, no wonder Lestrade took the call personally."

John raises a brow looking between the two.

**John** – "Serial pervert?"

**Anderson** – "Yeah, apparently some lanky dark-haired guy in a black coat has been running around nursery's and schools 'disturbing the peace'. Figures it would be him causing all this trouble."

**Donovan** – "Well since he's already creeped out all the adults in London he might as well move onto children next."

**Anderson** –"So how long do you think it'll take until he tries to use her for one of his experiments?"

Donovan throws her head back in laughter.

**Donovan** – "My bet is by the second day. I should make a note to—"

John then drops his basket with a loud clang and points a finger at the two.

**John** – "Now wait just a minute! Look, I know it may seem weird to you, but this is how Sherlock deals with scenarios he's… unfamiliar with. He may not be the best when it comes to other people's emotions, much less dealing with his own, but the fact that he's trying is at least admirable, which is more than what I can say for you two!"

Rage covers John's face as he pants heavily. Both Donovan and Anderson look at him in shock while Emma stares wide-eyed at him as well, a small whimper escaping from her. John looks down guiltily taking a calming breath as he rubs her back soothingly, muttering a quiet apology while placing a gentle kiss to her head.

**John** –"He gave up everything 3 years ago to protect his friends, and that includes Lestrade and by extension you two."

John jabs a finger at both their chests, his voice tight with strained emotion.

**John**-"And he would do it again in a heartbeat. So don't discredit him so quickly when you haven't even given him a chance!"

Anderson and Donovan look somberly back at John.

**Anderson** – "You're right John…we're sorry."

Donovan heaves a tired sigh, crossing her arms.

**Donovan** –"Yeah, I…I guess I should give him a chance. After all, a man can change in 3 years."

John picks up his basket and with a nod silently passes by the two, but as he passes by Donovan he places a hand on her shoulder.

**John** – "So can a woman."


	7. Chapter 6: Brotherly Advice

**Chapter 6: Brotherly Advice **

**Mycroft** – "Well, this was unexpected, even from you."

Mycroft sits at his office desk looking up at Sherlock who is holding an ornately decorated box from a nearby bakery, a grimace on his face.

**Sherlock** – "A token of gratitude from your little brother is unexpected?"

**Mycroft **– "Considering how the last gift I've received from you was when you were 10… yes, I would consider this unexpected."

Sherlock glowers a little, studying his brother.

**Sherlock – "**_**bags under his eyes-red from lack of sleep, corners of the mouth cracked and red, breath mixture of brandy and chocolate. **_

_**Small bruises on the neck, hidden slightly by the collar but not enough to warrant care of being noticed by others. Small razor cuts and patches of stubble. Distracted by something.**_

_**Not business though, he would still be properly groomed. No, this is a personal matter, something deep.**_

_**Clothes clean and hair coifed-but both slightly disheveled, suit has been worn three times in the past week, a slight trace of men's cologne and after shave linger, cologne smells familiar…**_

_**Ah! I see**_**."**

Sherlock then begins to move the box towards the trash

**Sherlock** – "I suppose I'll just toss this in the bin then."

Mycroft holds out his hand, his eyes averted away from Sherlock. Sherlock gives a small grin and places the box gingerly into his out-stretched hand.

**Mycroft **– "Well, since you went to the trouble after all. Waste not want not I suppose."

Sherlock places the gift in Mycroft's hand who places it carefully in his desk drawer.

**Mycroft** –"So why're you really here?"

Sherlock walks around Mycroft's office touching and examining various objects.

**Sherlock** – "What do you remember the most from our childhood Mycroft?"

Mycroft looks at Sherlock slightly puzzled his fingers steeple under his chin as he looks up in thought.

**Mycroft** – "Nights around a warm fireplace, our faces apple-cheeked and eyes bright as father regaled us with stories of his boyhood days while the sweet-savory smell of mother's cooking would comingle with the aroma of his rich tobacco."

Sherlock smirks giving a sidelong glance at Mycroft

**Sherlock** – "Either my memory has gone awry or you've been sampling your brandy a bit early for the day."

**Mycroft **– "I give ludicrous answers to ludicrous questions dear brother."

**Sherlock** – "Humor me, please."

Mycroft sighs rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration as he pours himself a brandy.

**Mycroft** – "I remember the same as you do little brother. An over-bearing and emotionless father with an Oedipus complex, and a doting but strict mother with squandered dreams living vicariously through her two 'genius' sons in hopes that sacrificing her youth would not be all for naught."

**Sherlock **–"What do you think of them as parents?"

Mycroft studies Sherlock for a minute as he stares out of the window looking down at a couple walking by with two little boys.

**Mycroft** – "They provided us with a home, food, the best in education and all the essentials for raising a child. There was also the minimal emotional support for proper mental development. I think they were… adequate as parents"

Sherlock continues to watch the family, a happy look on their faces as the father lifts one of them onto his shoulders and the mother bounces the other in her arms as he clutches a toy dog. As he stares at them more intently, he tries to conjure up any similar memories of his own childhood from the depths of his mind, but finds nothing.

**Sherlock** – "Did you ever feel…loved?"

Mycroft gives a rough laugh as he takes another sip of his brandy.

**Mycroft** – "Maybe, once in a while. You know as well as I do that they felt those kind of emotions got in the way of our upbringing, they didn't want us to be coddled."

Sherlock remains silent for a moment. He watches as the family walks around the corner of the street until they are out of sight.

**Sherlock** – "Do you suppose that's why we are the way we are? Emotionally I mean."

**Mycroft **– "Perhaps, but I believe we were already pre-dispositioned to be emotionally stunted the way we are since birth."

**Sherlock **– "But do you think… if we had loving parents, we might've turned out differently?"

As Mycroft finishes his brandy, he heaves a heavy sigh as he leans back in his chair.

**Mycroft** – "I suppose so. Why? What do you remember?"

Sherlock turns from the window closing the blinds, his hands stuffed in his pockets-eyes downcast as he walks over to the small table near the center of the room where a chess set lies.

**Sherlock** – "I remember two brothers, craving nothing more than the love and approval of their parents. They were already considered genius for their age, their minds ablaze with imagination and thousands of ideas, one with dreams of becoming a pirate..."

Sherlock smirks

**Sherlock** -"...the other an astronaut."

Mycroft rolls his eyes.

**Sherlock** \- "However, all of their dreams would soon be snuffed out. Every day a fine-oiled machine of routine filled with school, lessons, studying, being groomed for a path of greatness that they thought was of their own choice. Those two brothers, so ruled by their own emotions because they were so desperate to just feel one from their own parents. "

Sherlock moves a hand to the chess set touching the black king and queen pieces.

**Sherlock** –"Then with the act of a simple car crash, all of that emotion is just-gone. Deleted."

He knocks down the king and queen with a flick of a finger.

**Sherlock** – "What was the point of letting emotions compromise you when the only people you were seeking them from were no longer there."

Then, he reaches for 2 black bishops, moving them to place them together.

**Sherlock** – "Just the two brothers. Alone…broken. All they had were each other, bullied by their peers and ostracized by the rest. But even then, they too slowly drifted apart. The younger one, not as grateful for the other as he should've been."

Sherlock moves the bishops away from each other leaving one in the center of the board. Mycroft sits up and looks intensely at the chess pieces, then back up at Sherlock who refuses to meet his gaze.

**Sherlock** – "Do you remember when I asked you if you thought we were normal?"

Mycroft remains silent but continues to stare at him.

**Sherlock** – "All my life, I've been called many things. Freak, sociopath, a fake…that was my normal life, a bishop trapped amongst a sea of pawns."

Sherlock moves the black and white pawns to crowd around the bishop.

**Sherlock** – "The loneliness…the boredom, it soon became insufferable. Having to constantly occupy my mind with a case, or fuel my mind with narcotics just to get through the day."

He then turns and picks up a white knight piece and knocks down all of the pawns one by one with it before finally placing it next to the bishop.

**Sherlock** –"Then one day, a voice broke through that endless sea of pawns, called me something different.

'Brilliant',

'Fantastic',

'Amazing'.

Because of him I began to feel again. To care for someone as deeply as I had wished our parents did, and to have it reciprocated, I…"

He reaches for the white king moving to separate the knight and bishop

**Sherlock** – "I was… worried that it would become a liability, and in some respects it was."

He then knocks down the white king with the bishop, placing it once more next to the knight.

**Sherlock** – "But given the chance I would still do it all over again. Maybe of said a little more, but still the same."

Sherlock lifts his hand from the board and adjusts his coat as he turns to move towards the door, his back facing Mycroft.

**Sherlock** – "It may not be perfect, and it may seem strange to others; but I've created a new normal for myself with John and my... other friends. For once I don't feel like I'm drowning in a sea of pawns, my mind is clearer than ever, and I feel... happy."

**Mycroft** – "Why're you saying all this?"

Sherlock turns to look at Mycroft who stares at him with a slight crease in his brow in worry, though his eyes still remain steely.

**Sherlock** – "No reason, just thinking out loud."

Sherlock moves towards Mycroft and pats him gently on the shoulder.

**Sherlock** – "I suppose I don't say this enough-if…ever."

Mycroft looks up at Sherlock.

**Sherlock** – "Thank you, Mycroft."

Sherlock gives one last pat as he turns to leave, a somber but slightly stunned Mycroft looking after him. Suddenly though, Sherlock whips around to face him as he opens the door.

**Sherlock** – "Oh and by the way, you should end this silly tiff you're having with Lestrade. The man seems worse for wear and I don't think I can stand the smell of his cheap cologne much longer."

Sherlock smirks and with a wink leaves as Mycroft stares dumbfounded after him. Running his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply, Mycroft opens his drawer and takes the cake out along with a fork and begins eating while in the other hand begins to dial Lestrade's number.


	8. Chapter 7: A Little Human

**Chapter 7: A Little Human**

Later that day, John sits on the living room floor playing blocks with Emma. A distant-thoughtful look rests on his face as he thinks back to Donovan and Anderson. His train of thought is broken though, when Sherlock tiredly enters the room carrying a bag of take away.

**John**-"Welcome back, any luck on your data hunting?" John smiles up at him.

Sherlock places the takeaway on the living room table and collapses into his chair, rubbing his face with both hands.

**Sherlock**-"Hardly, but I managed to terrorize half of London's mothers, giving Lestrade a run for his money; as well as ruffling Mycroft's coat feathers."

**John** – "Really? You went to your brother of all people?"

Sherlock looks over at his boyfriend with a sour look and grumbles,

**Sherlock** – "I had some… reflecting to do, (Sherlock looks thoughtful) and I was running out of options."

**John**-"So all in all a good day?"

John grins up at Sherlock who couldn't help but smirk back.

**Sherlock**-"I brought you take away in case you were hungry."

John stands up leaving Emma to play with her blocks as he examines the bag.

**John**-"Aren't you hungry at all? What with all the running around you did today."

**Sherlock**-"My mind is too occupied for trivial things like eating."

He groans slinking further down into the chair.

**John**-"So you're not bored anymore I take it?"

John sits in the chair opposite of him eating some of the take away.

**Sherlock**-"No. But I've run into an obstacle that I wasn't anticipating."

**John**-"Oh? Like what? You're not backing out on our bet are you?" John jokes with a sly grin.

**Sherlock**-"Of course not! It's just…"

John looks curiously at Sherlock, his fingers steeple against his lips in concentration.

**Sherlock** – "I wonder that I may not have the emotional…proclivity for this sort of situation."

Sherlock looks down at Emma,

**Sherlock** – "And if that is the case, I wouldn't want certain parties to be damaged as a result."

John looks down at Emma as well and then back at Sherlock who has a faraway look on his face as he stares at her. His brow creased in worry, puts down the take away and scoots forward placing a hand on Sherlock's knee.

**John** – "Sherlock… in all the years we've known each other, you have been selfish, rude, insensitive, maniacal, egotistical-know-it-all—"

**Sherlock** –"If this is supposed to raise my spirits I fail to see it."

John gives his knee a squeeze and smirks at him.

**John** –"But you are also compassionate, kind, wise, brave and the most emotionally-confused person I've ever met."

Sherlock raises a questioning brow at his oddly contradicting boyfriend, but John continues to press forward.

**John** – "You always prided yourself on being able to detach yourself from others, to live life without the burden of emotion, but I know for a fact that isn't true."

He puts his other hand on Sherlock's knee and rubs his thumb comfortingly back and forth.

**John** – "Since the first day I met you, everyone would tell me how little you cared, that you're just some sociopath who doesn't give two fucks about others and never will. Sometimes….on bad days, I believed them."

Sherlock looks uncomfortable, but John takes his hand and continues the same gently rubbing against his knuckles with his thumb.

**John** –"But on the good days, and even then…I saw a brilliant-but lonely man who wears his heart on his sleeve, desperate to prove himself to the world… or to just those that he feels the need to prove himself to."

Sherlock leans forward and scrutinizes John for a moment before cautiously asking,

**Sherlock** –"Did you talk to Mycroft today?"

John looks quizzically back,

**John** \- "What? No, why do you ask?"

Sighing in relief, Sherlock leans back a little, with a small smile.

**Sherlock** – "You're being incredibly astute today."

John gives a cheeky grin in return,

**John** – "So I am onto something then?"

**Sherlock** – "Perhaps…"

Sherlock looks down at their joined hands, his other hand placed gently on John's.

**John** – "You know… I fully realized this particularly during that '_Hounds of Baskerville_' case."

**Sherlock** –"A title that for once I approve of."

John smacks one of his hands but still holds a grin on his face, which falls soon.

**John** – "When you were so scared that night by the fire, and you said that you didn't have friends. I wasn't just hurt that I thought you didn't think of me as your friend, but at how much pain you looked like you were in. That you were willing to throw all that we had away because you were scared of your own emotions."

Sherlock sighs heavily, a guilty look on his face.

**Sherlock** –"That's…That is exactly the kind of situation that I am trying to avoid now."

His hands trembled lightly in John's, the fear beginning to course through him again.

**Sherlock** – "I don't want to lose control again, to let my emotions consume me and say or do something I'll regret. (looks down at Emma) Especially to a child."

**John** – "That's just something we all have to deal with."

Sherlock turns back to John who kisses the palm of his hand

**John** –"We're all emotional basket-cases. Some just hide it better than others, but that doesn't mean it won't come to a head someday. We just have to deal with it when it comes, and that includes me too."

Looking at Sherlock squarely in the eye, John continues,

**John** – "I know that you're up for it though. After all, you can just think of this as another great mystery to solve: The case of, '_The Emotional Stunted Genius'_."

He moves his hand over as if imagining the title highlighted in neon lights. Sherlock puts on a pout and glares back.

**Sherlock** – "Once again your aptitude for titles is one of your greatest short-comings Dr. Watson."

**John** – "Ooh…I like it when you're in professional snarky mode, Mr. Holmes."

John purrs at Sherlock as he leans forward, kissing him.

**Sherlock** – "Keep up with the terrible ideas and there's more where that came from."

**John** –"Alright, how about…the case of, '_The-Incredibly-Handsome-but-Socially-Awkward-Detective-that-Claims-to-Hate-Everyone-but-Secretly-Loves-Them-Especially-His-Amazing-Boyfriend-that-Puts-Up-with-All-of-His-Bloody-Bullshit-Because-He-Loves-Him-Just-As-Much-If-Not-More-Despite-All-Reason-or-Logic_.'"

Sherlock stares incredulously at John for a moment who only reciprocates with cocky grin as he shrugs his shoulders.

**Sherlock** – "Right…well now I don't know how I feel about that."

**John** –"Welcome to being human Sherlock."

The two kiss again as Emma looks up at them and proceeds to yawn loudly. Breaking apart and looking down at her, John proceeds to yawn himself. Sheepishly, he goes to pick her up.

**John** – "Looks like it's bedtime for both of us."

John moves towards the bedroom with a sleepy Emma in his arms, but turns to look at Sherlock who is still sitting in the chair, his fingers steeple once again under his chin in deep thought.

**John** – "You coming Love?"

**Sherlock** – "Hmm?" He looks up quickly, "Oh, yes."

Standing up from his chair, Sherlock follows John into the bedroom turning off the lights along the way.

Later that night, the two lie spooned in their bed, John sleeping peacefully wrapped lovingly in Sherlock's arms. Sherlock on the other hand, laid wide awake, deep in his thoughts again. He takes a slight reprieve from his rapidly speeding brain as he buries his nose in John's hair for a moment, taking in his scent with a heady sigh. His mind finally beginning to settle, his eyes wander across the room towards the crib settling on Emma, sleeping peacefully within.

**Sherlock** – "Human huh…?"

Sherlock gives a small smile as he closes his eyes, tightening his hold on John.


End file.
